Day Six
by Vampiyaa
Summary: Eleven/Rose; Part Five-point-five of the Forever and More series. After being reunited by the Doctor's fifth self, Rose and the Eleventh Doctor take an extra day to sort things out, explain, and simply feel. Sequel to Five Days.


**Beta: natural-blues**

* * *

><p>Day Six<p>

_Previously:_

_To the Doctor, the universe had always had moods._

_Sometimes it thanked him with tiny favours and occasional bouts of luck, other times it was temperamental and did nothing but take everything he held dear from him. Now, however, he imagined he'd done something spectacular, because the universe was giving him back the thing he wanted more than air. _

_He could feel his past self in his mind, fighting to let her go and despairing at the knowledge that he had to. The Doctor didn't remember ever meeting Rose in his fifth life, let alone falling in love with her (again). Was that love? Yep, definitely love. The Doctor was aware of his Ponds gasping when his vegetable-wearing incarnation snogged Rose, and jealousy exploded in his chest like an errant supernova._

Mine_._

_He was considering stomping over there and hitting his past self, but the cricketer Doctor pulled away from her, murmuring something. The current Doctor flinched back at the mingled happiness and devastation that flooded his other self at Rose's reply, whatever it was. His feelings became the Doctor's own— she was _here_. His Rose. She'd come back to him. Then the other Doctor turned away from Rose and re-entered his TARDIS, dematerialising and leaving her standing in the middle of the street looking slightly dazed._

"_Doctor, are you all right?" he barely heard Amy ask, and he felt her hand brush his slightly wet cheek._

_Oh. He was crying. Well, that was new. _

_Rose turned away after a brief moment of staring at the spot where the past TARDIS had dematerialised, jumping when she immediately spotted the current ship. Her eyes travelled from the TARDIS straight to him, looking at him with slight astonishment._

_And it didn't matter that Rose had never seen this face before (did she like it? Oh, he hoped to Rassilon she liked it). The moment she apparently decided he was the Doctor, her face split into a beam and his hearts stuttered. His legs kicked into gear without his knowledge, stumbling over every little pebble on the pavement and even his own feet as he sprinted towards Rose, tears now knowingly pouring down his face like a faucet._

_They didn't even have to call each other's names. The moment he reached her he swept her into his arms and all but crushed her to him, letting out a half-laugh half-sob into her hair as her scent cascaded around him after all these years. And even though there were so many variables and consequences to consider — the fact that he was a married man, albeit to someone he didn't love; the question of what had happened to his metacrisis-self; hell, the idea that _maybe_ Rose didn't love him anymore — the Doctor swept down and captured her lips in an emulation of his past self._

* * *

><p>The Doctor had always prided himself as being one of the only beings — nowadays, the <em>only <em>being — with an ability to manipulate the one thing nobody else could so much as touch: time. He could spin through it like an invisible top, and if he wanted to (which he didn't) he could rip it into pieces and use it as confetti. He could speed it up to a sprint or slow it down to a crawl, or stop it entirely; he could play it like an instrument, or he could make it sing an aria or dance a tarantella. And if there was any moment in the giant ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff that he wanted to prolong forever, it would be this moment spent kissing Rose Tyler, on the Leadworth street in front of his gaping Ponds.

Her fingers were in his floppy, still sort-of-brown hair, tugging on the strands at the base of his neck — and _ooh_, that felt good — and his own were simultaneously curving over her bottom and pulling her closer, clinging on for dear life because he knew if he didn't, she'd vanish, and _Rassilon _she couldn't vanish, not again, not after he'd just gotten her back, so he kept pushing her closer as though trying to get her to become part of him. _Oh_, and wouldn't that feel spectacular, having her become a part of him forever? He'd coax her into his mind somehow, let her magnificence light the lonely, dark corners in his empty mind, and then he'd be whole. Then he'd do the same to her, bind them together forever— because they'd have forever now, if it was the last thing he ever did.

She made the most delicious noise when he forced his tongue into her mouth and flicked it over hers, her front grinding against his and making him see white for an instant behind his eyelids. He momentarily forgot where he was, tearing his mouth from hers for the first time only to drag it down her jaw, nipping kisses from the arch of her neck down to her collarbone and leaving a trail of his earlier tears and delightful little red marks; they'd fade in a few minutes, which just wouldn't do, but he had plenty of time to properly mark her later on.

"Doctor," Rose gasped, when he latched onto the spot beneath her ear and began nibbling.

"Rose," he grunted in response, shunting his hips against her and letting out a whiny noise when it pressed the seam of his trousers into his erection.

"Doctor, wait," she said, and he stopped at once with his face still buried in her neck, his old insecurities creeping back in and dousing him with a horridly cold feeling, until Rose added on an amused, slightly breathless hiss, "We have an audience, remember?"

He went completely rigid, heat creeping up his neck as reality crashed around him; he had just, quite literally, snogged Rose Tyler. And practically dry-shagged her. In front of his Ponds.

And their father.

Rose giggled, giving his hair a comb with her fingers to try and get him to lift his head. He obeyed, horribly aware that his already still tearstained face was probably red as a beet, but once again every priority drained out of him when he met her eyes. She smiled at him with warmth, brushed away his tears with her thumb and murmured, "Hello."

He let out a cross between a sob and a laugh when he realised they hadn't greeted each other at all before locking lips. Pressing his forehead to hers, still unwilling to give up the closeness despite his witnessing Ponds, he whispered with an answering smile, "Hello."

They simply beamed at each other for what felt like an eternity and five seconds, before Amy's annoyed voice shouted from the background, "OI, RAGGEDY MAN!" The Doctor actually jumped like a startled cat, and Rose had to choke back a snort and wondered if the new him was always this skittish. The two of them turned around, the Doctor doing so with a guilty look on his face, and they saw Amy standing near the TARDIS with her hand on her hip. Brian was heading back into the house and Rory was nowhere to be seen. "Since you seem to be _busy—_" If the Doctor's face had gotten any redder, it would have caught fire. "— Rory and I are gonna wait in the TARDIS. You come back when you're done."

She positively stomped back to the TARDIS, and Rose blinked after her. "Is she angry?"

The Doctor knew eventually that he was going to have to explain to her all the horrible little complicated details like, say, how Amy was River's mother. And _oh_, thinking of River twisted his insides into awful, guilt-ridden noodles, but he shoved the thought aside into the deepest recesses of his mind. He was here now, with _Rose — _not River — and he'd tell her soon, but not right now.

So instead, he said with dismissal, "Nah, she's just a younger version of Donna Noble."

"Can't wait to meet her, then," Rose grinned, nudging his side with her hip.

He smiled at her with all the love he had, turning back towards her and drawing her into his hold again. She reciprocated with a lovely hum in addition, and he pressed his nose into her temple and breathed her in. She smelled of sweet sugar and slightly of grilled cheese — he half-chuckled at that, briefly wondering if she'd eaten one with his past self — and all in all, it was very Rose, a lovely mixture of sweetness and domestics.

"As much as I'd like to stay here forever," Rose's amused voice broke through his reverie, "the older bloke's watching from the window."

The Doctor frowned, pulling away from Rose and turning towards Rory's house, where Brian was indeed peering at them unabashedly through his curtains. With a slight smirk in Brian's direction, the Doctor nodded towards the TARDIS and said, "Back to the ship then."

He let her retrieve her duffel bag by herself but immediately claimed her hand again the second she'd straightened up, leading her to his ship with warmth in his smile and in his chest. Rose let out an interested coo when they reached the doors, running her hand over the sticker on the right door. "Didn't have that before," Rose commented, "an' the paint's newer."

"Well, I might've blown up the TARDIS and created a second Big Bang to save the universe," the Doctor replied jovially. "The TARDIS changed after that."

His delight waned immediately when Rose rounded on him, looking horrified. "You _blew up the TARDIS_?!"

"Err, in a sense," he said vaguely, fiddling with his bowtie nervously and hoping with desperation that she didn't take her hand away. Or leave. "I _was _punished for a week!" he added, with a grumpy glance at the ship. "Hid all the fish custard, her."

Rose paused, mouth agape. "Fish custard…?" she repeated confusedly, before waving it aside. "Never mind, I don't wanna know."

She pushed open the doors of the ship and stepped in; he stayed in behind her, lingering to shut the doors despite the fact that Rose had frozen less than halfway up the ramp. Amy and Rory were nowhere to be found, thankfully — he loved his Ponds, but there was nothing he wanted more right now than a few hours or more alone with Rose — so the Doctor let himself look vulnerable, hopping nervously from one foot to the other, wondering if she hated the new interior or not.

"Rose?" he said tentatively, giving the hand he still held a questioning squeeze.

"It's _Spock_," Rose said, a huge smile splitting over her face. She bumped his hip with hers, giving him an amused look. "Thought you didn't need any Spock."

Relief flooded his insides and he smiled back, tightening his grip on her hand. "I don't— it was the TARDIS's choice."

"Oh, so _she _chose the Spock outlook?" Rose said, sweeping her eyes over the console. "Has nothin' to do with your captain envy?"

"What?" the Doctor frowned, before remembering with a slight jolt. His face flushed scarlet and he said awkwardly, "Er, no. I mean, yes! I mean—"

He shut his mouth with an abrupt click before he said anything else stupid, cheeks flaming as Rose started to laugh. "God, I forgot you used to do that," she giggled, hugging his arm and making him grin like an idiot despite his embarrassment. "The celery you didn't talk anywhere near as much."

Reality hit him like a ton of bricks. He'd been so preoccupied with the warm, fuzzy truth that she was actually _here _(and still wanted to snog him) that he'd completely forgotten the errant facts— the fact that she _was _here, and not in a completely different universe; the fact that she had arrived in his fifth incarnation's TARDIS, and that his fifth incarnation had _snogged her _(he was still upset about that); the fact that she didn't look like she'd aged a day and the fact that she was alone, without his human metacrisis copy that she'd undoubtedly married due to the ring on her finger.

Turning to her and schooling his face into seriousness, the Doctor asked, "What happened, Rose?"

Her brilliant smile faded into a sombre one, making his insides clench with regret at once. "It's sor' of a long story. Could we maybe talk while we eat?" Her eyes lit up. "Ooh, let's get chips!"

Warmth filled his chest at the familiarity, and his eyes crinkled at the corners when he positively beamed down at her. "Yes, Rose."

They practically glued each other to the other's side, having to waddle penguin-style down the corridor towards the galley. Once again, he was thankful his Ponds had taken it upon themselves to retire somewhere in the bowels of the ship, because she was leaning her head against his shoulder and he was taking the liberty of nuzzling his nose into her hairline like he'd always wanted to.

When they reached the galley, they both stopped in the doorway in shock when they saw a tray already prepared for them, one half filled with a plate of steaming chips and the other filled with a bowl of something beige and decidedly lumpy-looking. Rose beamed at the sight of the chips. "She's never prepared us food like that!"

"She's spoiling us," he grinned, making an 'ooh' sound at the sight of bowl, dunking his fingers in it and sticking them into his mouth with a pop. His voice, eyes and face all softened in unison when he looked at her and said, "She missed you."

Her beam widened, and to the Doctor's amusement she turned and hugged the wall. "I missed you too!" she sighed, and the TARDIS hummed delightedly.

"Yes, well," the Doctor said, pulling her back into his hold and sending his ship a mental glare that stated with annoyance, '_I'm not sharing'_. "Shall we eat in the library?"

Rose nodded, snatching her chips off the tray and giving him an amused look that clearly said she knew precisely what he'd just done. As they arrived at the library, the Doctor paused in the doorway; unbeknownst to Rose, since she immediately made a beeline for what had been their favourite spot all those years ago, in the overlarge armchair by the fire just big enough for two. She plunked down on it with a happy giggle, sticking two chips into her mouth and then pausing halfway through chewing when she noticed the Doctor hadn't moved from the doorway, a stunned expression on his face.

"Um, Doctor?" she said through a mouthful, frowning as she swallowed. "You all right?"

"Hm?" he said abruptly, blinking at her. "Er, yeah, I— yeah."

He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, approaching the chair with caution. As Rose pulled him down to sit beside her, she added, "Then why exactly do you look like you've never seen the library before?"

He stuck his fingers into the bowl again to avoid looking at her. "Rose, the library hasn't looked like this in years. _This—_" he patted the chair with the hand not covered in custard, "— hasn't been here since you got trapped the first time."

Rose frowned at her plate of chips, and he immediately felt guilty for pointing it out and causing her grief. In an obvious attempt to avoid the subject, he dunked a fish finger into the custard and stuffed it into his mouth. Rose wrinkled her nose at him and exclaimed in disgust, "Ugh, is that that fish custard stuff you were talkin' about?"

"Yrshh shish," he replied eloquently, his mouth full.

She rolled her eyes. "Swallow, _then _speak."

He swallowed, beaming at her. "I _said_, 'yes it is'." He waved a fish finger in front of her face. "Wanna try?"

"Gods, no." Rose grabbed a chip and, to his surprise, dunked it into the custard and stuck it into her mouth. "Now _this _I'll try."

"Is it any good?" he grinned, watching her chew.

"I'll stick to vinegar," Rose said with a shrug, making him laugh.

He finished first, allowing him to indulge his newfound desperation for contact and pull her into his lap so he could hold her while she polished off her chips. When she was done, he settled his hands on her waist and repeated his question with concerned seriousness. "Rose, what happened in the parallel universe?"

Her eyes swept to her knees in an obvious sign of discomfort, and her mouth quirked up in a half-smile half-grimace. "Well, s'like I said, it's sor' of a long story." She gave him a curious look. "Don't you remember what happened to you when you wore celery?"

He gave her a look when she grinned at her own comment. "No I don't— I had to suppress them so it wouldn't turn the timeline into wobbly mushy stuff."

Now she snorted at _his _comment. "Wobbly mushy stuff. Right." As he looked sheepish, she returned to earnestness. "So, you can unlock them, yeah?"

"Yes— although it might take a while," he warned her. At her understand look, he fidgeted like a child unable to sit still, suddenly terrified of what he might remember. The way his fifth self had snogged her, like he'd been forced to let go of something he'd discovered he desperately needed, made him wonder what could have possibly happened in the unknown amount of time he'd been with her. Glancing between her and his shoes, he stammered, "Rose, I—" but at her inquisitive (_painfully beautiful_) expression, he swallowed his own cowardice and smiled disarmingly. "I'll see you in a mo'."

She smiled back at him, cheeks round, eyes alit and tongue at the corner of her mouth in that excruciatingly memorable way that never failed to make him want to pin her against the nearest surface and suck that tongue into his mouth. The urge was worse now, since he now knew he had more than just _permission_ to do so, but he also knew if he did, nothing would get done.

So instead, he gave the side of her face one final caress with his thumb and closed his eyes.

And he remembered.

* * *

><p><em>Friends either gone, dead or absent, his TARDIS took it upon herself to land herself in some unknown place with a jolt that threw him onto his bum.<em>

"_Where the sodden hell have you taken me?"_

* * *

><p><em>A strange woman was in his ship, caressing the console with an infuriating intimacy.<em>

"_Er, hello, my name's Rose Tyler. Are you a companion of the Doctor? 'Cos… I'm kind of lookin' for him, so if you could just, um, tell me where he is… Why on _Earth_ are you wearing a vegetable?"_

_She was a companion of his, from the future._

_And she made him feel better._

_Loneliness loves company._

* * *

><p>"<em>I lost my parents, my friends, an' my husband."<em>

"_Um, what happened?"_

"_I outlived them."_

"_Forgive me— how did they die?"_

"_Old age."_

"_But you're so young."_

"_I'm eighty years old."_

* * *

><p><em>He was locked out of his own ship, in a London where there were zeppelins in the sky instead of aeroplanes. <em>

_She wanted chips. They got chips._

* * *

><p><em>He was in a parallel universe. So was she, apparently.<em>

"_Something'll happen, and I'll… meet my husband, John. You'll send me back with him so we can live together."_

_It made no sense to him, but he didn't get to ask._

* * *

><p><em>They had a President, not a Prime Minister.<em>

_She was an heiress with a lower-class accent living in a manor too big and lonely for just her._

_There were photographs _everywhere.

_She wouldn't stop poking fun at his celery._

_He slept in the guest room, wearing her dead husband's clothing._

* * *

><p>"<em>Lay back and rest now; you're safe, child of Time<em>

_Sleep under this burning sky_

_Dream of a new dawn in red, gold and lime_

_And I'll stay with you as you lie…"_

* * *

><p><em>He found her in the rain.<em>

_She said he taught her that song._

* * *

><p>"<em>Why don't you age?"<em>

_"You were in danger, an' you sent me away in the TARDIS. So I looked into her heart."_

"_You did _what_?! Rose, don't you know that's immensely dangerous and—?"_

"_And don't _you_ think I've heard all of these arguments from you before? I had to save you, y'know, an' I don't regret it. All it did was alter my physiology a bit."_

* * *

><p><em>They watched the parallel version of Oliver Twist.<em>

_She made his head loopy throughout the whole of it._

_He recognised the photo of her husband, with sideburns and gravity-defying hair. He just couldn't remember _where _he'd seen him._

_He felt asleep, in her embrace, to her humming the lullaby from his past._

* * *

><p><em>He made her breakfast.<em>

_She had to go to work. He didn't do 'bored' very well._

_He found a box inscribed _'Jonathan Noble'_, with heart-wrenching things inside._

_They fought. He said things he didn't mean._

"_AN' I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU EVER AGAIN, YOU BLOODY WANKER!"_

* * *

><p><em>He went to Torchwood to find her, apologise. He found her in the midst of battle on a plain in Essex.<em>

_She was shot. _

"_Rose, I need you. Don't go. I'm so sorry. I love you. I love you, Rose. I need you. Don't leave me. No, Rose. _Rose_!" _

_He brought her to the TARDIS._

_She was dead._

"_No… _No. _My Rose."_

_She was _dead.

_He cried._

She was dead.

_And then she wasn't._

* * *

><p>"<em>Doctor, I think you're right."<em>

"_Hm? About what?"_

"_About bringing me back to future you. You're right. I don't wanna stay in that universe… without you."_

* * *

><p><em>He brought her back to their universe, to a floppy-haired, bowtie-wearing idiot gaping at them in the background. <em>

"_One day, I'm going to remember the last five days, and I'm probably going to kick myself for all the stupid things I did. One thing I can't kick myself for is this." _

_He kissed her._

_It was wonderful._

* * *

><p>When he came to, he was cushioned against something soft and warm. It took him a moment to realise that it was Rose, using her lap as a pillow for his head and trailing her fingers through his hair with idleness. He shut his eyes for a moment, sighing in pleasure at the feeling of her nails dragging across his scalp.<p>

His noise cued her to his consciousness. "Doctor? Are you awake now?" His eyes burst open, and he started to scramble up, startling her. They stared at each other for what felt like ages, before she broke the silence by stammering, "Y-you were out for almost an hour—"

He silenced her with his mouth, pinning her to the back of the couch with force enough to hurt. When she winced against his lips and tried pulling away, he beat her to it, dragging her into an embrace so tight she almost couldn't breathe. "You were dead," he shuddered, gasping like he couldn't draw in enough oxygen.

Rose's mind flashed back immediately to her time presumably as a ghost, watching the celery-wearing, miraculously humble Doctor crying uncontrollably over her half-naked, dead body in a surreal grey TARDIS. She pressed her nose into his neck, letting him gasp for breath into her shoulder. "Shh."

He swallowed down his sobs obediently, trembling with the effort to the point where his respiratory bypass kicked in. Her lips pressing against his temple helped a lot, so eventually he was able to suck in a grateful lungful of air without it sounding too shuddery and focus on what else he'd remembered. "Oh Rose," he whispered, afraid that if he spoke too loud his voice would crack. "I'm so sorry."

She pulled away slightly so that she could frown at him, feeling a slight stab in her chest at his utterly shattered expression. "What for?"

"I sent you away," he said with regret. Amazingly his eyes never left hers. "With him. And you didn't even… you couldn't…"

"Hey," she said softly, trailing a hand through his hair. He seemed to lean into her touch, making warmth flood her stomach. "Don't be sorry for that." She cast her eyes down, uncomfortable with talking about her deceased husband of sixty years with the regenerated, _living _version of him. "Truth is, we were happy. An' yeah, when he died it was hard, but then the other you showed up," she added with a half-smile, nudging his leg with her knee. "Was a bit hard to be sad when you were there wearin' celery and bein' all modest. That's a miracle, that."

He sent her a look without any real edge to it. "You don't age."

She frowned again, this time with confusion. "Er, yeah, I noticed."

He stayed quiet, torn between wanting to vocalise his own blame and knowing, both through remembrance and through common sense, that she'd already heard it from his fifth self and his metacrisis counterpart. So instead, he said seriously, "Infirmary. Now."

Rose sighed, obediently rising off the couch and letting him drag her by her hand back down the corridor, their dishes forgotten. She'd expected this, and although she'd already been poked and prodded in a lab by trusted Torchwood staff, she was pretty certain just telling the Doctor what they'd found wouldn't be anywhere near enough for him— it hadn't been for her husband.

The infirmary had changed too, but only appearance-wise— the walls and floors were silver and neater than they had been before, but most of the equipment was the same weird, alien stuff that the Doctor had occasionally used on her post-adventure gone awry. Rose hopped onto the cushiony bio-bed, swinging her legs idly as the Doctor got out his equipment.

He took scans of her for a while, a blank look on his face throughout the duration of it. She wanted to trail her fingers through his hair again, she wanted to kiss the expression off his face, she wanted to speak up and reassure him, but it'd been years since _any _Doctor had hidden himself behind a defensive wall and she was afraid to say something wrong. So instead she sat on her hands and chewed on her bottom lip, until he pulled away and set the equipment aside with a sigh.

"Rose," he whispered, breaking the silence and the tension, and giving Rose the excuse she needed to reach over and draw him into her hold. He stepped close to her, burying his face into her neck and trailing his hands up the back of her shirt, fingers caressing where her gunshot wound used to be. Apparently reassured by the lack of injury, he lifted his head and turned her attention to the monitor. "See that?"

She nodded, frowning at the image of a double helix strand of DNA that was glowing gold. "What is it?"

"Your DNA," he said quietly. "Your cells are in a constant state of regeneration, which is why you can't age."

"So I'll be like this forever?" Rose said in a tiny voice, wishing she could be stronger but desperately needing answers.

He gave her waist a squeeze for comfort. "It's reversible, Rose." She sighed with relief, but it was short-lived when she noticed his expression. "But you'll still age slower than a human."

"By how much?" she said warily.

"A century, two at most," he said regretfully. "I'm sorry, Rose, it's the best I can do."

"Well what's wrong with that?" Rose replied with a frown. "That means I can be with you longer than just another sixty years." Her eyes cast down to her knees, suddenly uncertain. "If-if you want."

Warmth flooded his stomach, and a smile lit up his whole face. "Oh Rose," he whispered, tugging her closer so that they were front to front. "I want."

They spent another minute just beaming at each other like idiots, until Rose's expression became contemplative. "D-d'you wanna see it?"

"See what?" he asked.

"What happened in the parallel universe."

He pulled away, gaping at her in utter astonishment when he realised what she was implying. "Y-you mean it?" She nodded in earnest, and his expression crashed into something that couldn't be described in words, eyes suddenly glistening. "Okay."

He kissed her again, a soft but desperate gesture that implied his indescribable gratitude and his slight terror at what he'd find in Rose's memories; she kissed back in the same manner, which suggested she was feeling the same things. Eventually his fingers drifted to her temples and, pulling his mouth away and swallowing hard, he let himself slip into her mind.

She let out an involuntary moan when his presence washed through her; he echoed the noise with a partnering shudder from the pleasure of being mentally linked with someone, even though it was one-sided. Earlier when he'd been snogging her in the streets of Leadworth, his hormone-addled head had echoed his dreams from years ago of venturing into her mind, but he hadn't honestly expected to do it only a few hours after he got her back.

Remembering his objective, the Doctor took a moment to gather some semblance of control and, with one last deep breath, slipped into her memories.

* * *

><p><em>He saw, through her eyes, the TARDIS disappearing on a windy beach in a parallel Norway. The earnest and slightly terrified-looking metacrisis stepped forward and took her hand as the TARDIS vanished with one last wheezing groan. She frowned at their clasped hands and turned to him, seeing through the sombre, uncertain mask he had on.<em>

_"Why do you always do that?" she said, face blank._

_He gave her a frightened half-smile. "Because I'm an arse?"_

_Rose smiled back sadly, chuckling despite herself and letting him pull her into a tight embrace._

* * *

><p><em>Rose had her own flat outside the Tyler mansion, nearest to the London branch of Torchwood. She was also an agent there, and pretended not to be ridiculously pleased when the Doctor expressed his pride.<em>

_The first night was tense and awkward at first. They stayed in her flat instead of the mansion, as Jackie had originally demanded with steady glares in the Doctor's direction._

_Rose had a cat, a stray that she explained used to hang around her windowsill until she finally gave up trying to shoo it away and adopted it. She'd called it 'Momo', which amused the Doctor to no end._

_He made dinner whilst she attempted to write up some boring report for Torchwood, both of them hiding from the other but pretending not to be. She was nervous for no reason, wondering a hundred things—mainly, if the bloke making a fry-up in her kitchen actually was the Doctor and if he even really wanted to stay with her instead of just being pressured into it by the Time Lord Doctor._

_And what the hell was a 'metacrisis' anyway?_

_"Rose?" came the Doctor's voice behind her, making her jump and nearly dislodge the papers in her lap._

_"Er, yeah?" she said, keeping her eyes locked on her report._

_He set the plates on the coffee table, shooing Momo off the couch and sitting down in her place. "Rose, please look at me." Rose shifted slightly before guiltily meeting his gaze, but instead of finding him upset she found him wearing a sweet little half-smile and practically worshipping her with his eyes. "I know this is a bit different—" He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, and she couldn't help but crack a smile at the familiar, endearing gesture, "— and I don't have a time machine anymore, but I-I still want to be enough. For you," he added quickly._

_He looked so unsure of himself and vulnerable that she let her walls fall away, a warm smile brightening up her face as she gripped his hand. "You are enough," she said, "time machine or no time machine."_

_He beamed at her, cheeks round and eyes crinkling at the sides, and they spent the rest of the night snogging on the couch and memorising every inch of each other's mouths._

* * *

><p><em>The next few weeks were spent getting the Doctor a position at Torchwood — which, with his intelligence and Pete's influence, took a total of six hours to become official — and adhering to Jackie's insistence of tri-weekly visits to the Tyler mansion. He ended up adopting the name 'Johnathan Noble', in honour of Donna, instead of calling himself a 'Tyler' as Jackie had (strongly) suggested. They were also astonished to discover a parallel version of Jack Harkness as part of their brand-new team— although this Jack aged normally he was just as sexually explicit as their Jack had been.<em>

_Tony, as the two-year-old toddler had grown up hearing stories of the Doctor from Rose and his parents, was utterly convinced he was a superhero, so the two of them became thick as thieves quickly._

_Months passed by in a haze of domestic bliss. They slept in the same bed, usually with one plastered to the other's back (mostly the Doctor), and he usually woke first so he could wake her up with a cuppa and breakfast… and often a lot of grumbling, as Rose Tyler wasn't and never will be a morning person. Jackie stopped hanging over their shoulders like a dead goose, apparently convinced that the Doctor wasn't going to get bored and hop on the next void ship back to the original universe. Whatever missions they were assigned to, the Doctor demanded that he and Rose go on them together, and nobody argued with him._

_As time went on he began to open up more, talking about his experiences after she was trapped and his life beforehand. He told her the name of his home planet, recounted stories of growing up in places with ridiculously haughty names, in Rose's opinion, and taught her the song his mother used to sing to him. She was beyond honoured when the Doctor took the liberty of teaching her his language— it was insanely complicated and looked more like clockwork than a language, but she was determined to learn it and he seemed absurdly pleased by her efforts._

_They didn't have a TARDIS, but they didn't need one._

* * *

><p><em>The sounds of screeching alarms, thudding footsteps and the pounding of blood in her ears were deafening as she and the Doctor sprinted down a long corridor hand in hand. Despite the fact that they were running for their lives, on a base about to crash-land into Mars, twin grins were on both of their faces as they scrambled to reach the transmat at the end of the base.<em>

_"Who says we need a TARDIS to run for our lives?" Rose yelled over the alarms with a delighted laugh, as they narrowly missed getting crushed by a falling beam._

_"Will you marry me?"_

_She whipped her head around, gaping at him even as they continued to run. "What?"_

_"I said—" They both ducked underneath a half-collapsed doorway, forcing him to pause for a moment, "— Will you marry me?"_

_"You really think this is a good time to be askin' that?" she panted, as the transmat loomed into view._

_"Well, there is now a sixty per cent chance that we might die," he said knowingly._

_As they hurled themselves onto the transmat pad, Rose pounded on the button before tossing herself into his arms and shouting happily, "Yes!"_

* * *

><p><em>They got married several months later, having to endure Jackie's constant squealing and fussing over flowers and Rose's dress and other nonsense.<em>

_Rose suggested, in lieu of a venue, they hold the ceremony in Norway on Bad Wolf Bay; he'd been sceptical initially, but Rose insisted they make some good memories on that godforsaken beach. It was small and private— they invited Rose's team at Torchwood, Pete was the officiator and Jackie was the maid of honour, and bawled through the entirety of the ceremony. Tony was best man, and his wedding present to them was a sand castle he spent most of the ceremony making._

_When everybody was loading back into the jeep, Jackie sobbing on Pete's shoulder and Tony equally upset (although that was just because he'd discovered he couldn't bring the sand castle with him), the Doctor leaned over and whispered something in her ear. It was one long, chiming word in Gallifreyan, burning itself permanently into her mind._

_"What was that?" she asked curiously, when he pulled away._

_"My name."_

* * *

><p><em>Their bedroom was almost too bright, illuminated by moonlight streaming through the window above their heads. Rose sat up and dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, glancing next to her at her sleeping husband, who was snoring slightly— though he'd never admit it.<em>

_Grey streaked through the sort-of-brown colour in his still gravity-defying hair, and wrinkles lined underneath his eyes and around his mouth. Rose ran her hands over her face, horribly aware that she didn't have any wrinkles at all, despite being well in her forties._

_He stirred underneath her gaze, rolling over and smiling sleepily up at her. "Hello."_

_"Hello," she replied, not returning his smile._

_He frowned, sitting up and rumpling his already unruly hair with his hand. "What's the matter?"_

_She inhaled deeply, suddenly terrified that vocalising her concerns would make them real. "I don't think I'm ageing."_

* * *

><p><em>Months of being poked at by Torchwood, even with the Doctor's inventions, turned up little results. The extent of what they knew was that Rose definitely wasn't ageing; whether this was permanent or not, nobody seemed to know. Rose was terrified of outliving him and her parents, and although the Doctor didn't say anything she could tell he was equally afraid.<em>

_The next ten years were spent desperately searching for technology to identify and reverse whatever was stopping her from ageing, to no avail. They were both aware that the most probable explanation was when she looked into the heart of the TARDIS and became Bad Wolf, but Rose never mentioned it since it was clear the Doctor was already feeling horribly guilty about it._

_Since they no longer visited the Tyler mansion once a week, Jackie graced them with daily calls about Pete's upcoming retirement from Torchwood and other, mostly nonsensical stuff. They occasionally got a ring from Tony, who had just graduated university and had finally proposed to his girlfriend Cecilia._

_Jackie's phone calls started to thin considerably, up until they stopped completely for a full week. Neither of them gave it much thought, since both Jackie and Pete were well into their eighties, up until Tony rang them again._

_This time it was to tell them he had found them both dead in their beds._

* * *

><p><em>Rose cried for two days, feeling horrible because they were so busy looking for a solution for her that they didn't know Jackie and Pete were sick in the first place. The funeral was horribly public because of Pete's fame, and the utterly heartless media immediately began pestering her, Tony and the Doctor with questions, up until the Doctor secretly sonicked each and every camera to 'mysteriously' malfunction.<em>

_Despite her initial protests, Rose grudgingly accepted the position of Director at Torchwood, with a lot of insistence from Tony, Cecilia and the Doctor. They moved out of the flat and into the west wing of the mansion, resolving to just enjoy what time they have left together._

_It was only a year later that the Doctor's memory started degrading._

* * *

><p><em>Usually the things he forgot were minute, like what day it was or who was on the phone. In due course, however, it got to the point where he tried to leave the mansion on his own in an attempt to get to the TARDIS.<em>

_"I don't understand why you won't let me leave!" he fumed, stomping his foot as well as a man his age could._

_"It's sor' of hard to explain," Rose said desperately, blocking the doorway with her body._

_"Well try," he said with frustration, trying to dodge past her and wincing when it made pain flare up his side._

_"Just trust me," she insisted, taking a chance and moving from the doorway to take his hand._

_He relaxed slightly from the gesture but his frown remained, even as she led him over to the couch and sat him down with gentle gestures. Eventually, with a lot of soft touches and distracting conversation on Rose's part, he forgot his outburst._

* * *

><p><em>Three years later, he was gone, having passed away on a rainy day in her lap after a crying fit. She was on her way back from visiting his grave, and her parents', when her heart nearly stopped beating in her chest after she spotted the motionless TARDIS parked discreetly in an alleyway.<em>

* * *

><p>Ridiculously, the first thing the Doctor registered when his fingers fell away from her temples was the vague realisation that they'd been linked for a full hour and a half; the second was that his mind felt horribly empty again without her beautiful presence filling it.<p>

The third thing was that Rose was crying.

"Oh Rose," he breathed upon blinking the haze from his head.

He gathered her up in his arms and held her close, feeling sick to his stomach as Rose curled her fingers around his tweed jacket, burying her face in his neck and sobbing out, "I've been so lonely…"

"I know, Rose," he whispered, holding her tight enough to hurt and rocking her gently. "My Rose."

She cried for what seemed like forever, legs wrapped around his waist so she could be as close as possibly as though trying to plaster herself to him. During that time he mentally instructed the TARDIS to keep his Ponds well away from the infirmary, not wanting them to see her like this, and breathed in her scent to calm himself down, since the torment she'd gone through over the past sixty years was unquestionably his fault.

Eventually she quietened, and it took him a few moments of silence to realise that she'd fallen asleep. Heart heavy, he gently scooped her up bridal style, desperately trying not to jostle her too much lest she wake. Upon exiting the infirmary, he walked slowly down the corridor in an effort to be as quiet as possible and mentally asking the TARDIS to bring his bedroom door near them. His ship complied with an additional comforting hum, which he returned with a weak smile, and he stepped through the opened door and made a beeline for his bed.

After tucking her in with care and spending a moment for himself simply looking at her, the Doctor tiptoed out of the room, shutting the door behind him with the utmost amount of caution, only to turn around and nearly jump out of his shoes when he found his Ponds standing before him.

"Err…" came out of his mouth awkwardly.

"We've made a decision, Raggedy Man," Amy said shortly, a scowl still evident on her face. "Where's she gone to?"

He pointed to the door, keeping his eyes locked on his plimsolls. "Sleeping."

Amy looked like she was going to comment, but Rory nudged her discreetly and gave her a sharp look, so instead she said, "We've been talkin' it out, and we've decided that we're not gonna travel with you."

He hung his head lower, mumbling, "Okay."

"Not yet," added Rory quickly, making the Doctor frown and look at them properly.

"We've made promises to people," Amy supplied, "and we intend to keep them."

"We'll still want to go on the occasional adventure through time and space," said Rory in earnest, prompting a tiny smile on the Doctor's part.

"We just don't want to do it while you're makin' kissy-face with your girlfriend," Amy said, smirking a little when her raggedy man promptly turned beet red. Her expression sobered immediately when she added, "Does she know about River?"

The Doctor hesitated to answer, thinking back to the letter his fifth self found in Johnathan Noble's chest. "A little bit."

Amy narrowed her eyes in his direction as though trying to determine if he was lying. "Well, tell her the rest then." He nodded and directed his gaze to the floor again, prompting Amy to soften her expression and her tone. "And…" She shrugged awkwardly. "Maybe she can come shopping with me sometime."

The Doctor raised his head and all but beamed at them, stunning them both. "Yeah."

* * *

><p>Rose stirred out of her kip, wincing at the gentle throb in her temple and the itchy feeling in her eyes from crying. The Doctor's scent surrounded her, clinging to the sheets that he'd lovingly draped over her, so she burrowed closer into it only to nudge her calf against what had to be the Doctor lying next to her. She wriggled closer and took it upon herself to drape her leg over his hip; he let out what was definitely a pleased sigh and coiled his arms around her comfortably.<p>

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, hiding her face in his neck. "Didn't mean to…" She waved a hand in an awkward gesture, "… start cryin' like that."

He pulled back from her, but it was only so he could dip back down and snog her good and proper. Pulling away again, he looked down at her with an open look of adoration. "Rose, from what you've shown me, you haven't cried nearly enough." His thumb skimmed the apple of her cheek, the ongoing expression on his face so loving she felt her cheeks start to flush pink. "Thank you, Rose."

She hummed in response, wriggling herself closer to him. "Where did your companions go?"

"Er, they left," he said, blushing in remembrance of Amy's 'making kissy-face' comment.

She seemed to shrink into herself, startling him. "W-was it 'cos of me?"

"No!" he burst out hurriedly, before cringing when he realised he'd technically lied. "Er, not _really_." Rose narrowed her eyes at him, and he hastened to add, "Amy's even said she wants to invite you shopping! If-if you want."

"Really?" She beamed, making relief seep out of him like steam. "Ooh!"

He grinned at her, up until he remembered Amy's other remarks and sobered almost immediately. A lump arose in his throat, and he swallowed hard and said, "We… need to talk."

Rose took one look at his sombre, terrified and slightly guilty expression and guessed, with an expression of apathy on her face the Doctor didn't like one bit, "River Song."

Wanting to claw off the emotionless mask she'd set up in her defence, the Doctor cradled both of her cheeks with his hands and said earnestly, "Rose, one thing I'll make very clear right now is that I am _not _in love with River." He paused and then added quickly, "And both River _and _the Ponds know that. Well, Rory does anyhow."

"But then… why did you marry her?" she whispered, trying not to sound relieved or hurt.

He sighed, pulling one hand away to rub the back of his neck in that familiarly endearing way. "River… her timeline runs backwards to mine. The day I met her was the day she died."

Rose nodded. "At the Library."

"Right. And she showed up already knowing things about me, and she said we were married and she knew my _name_ and-and—" He paused for a long moment, lower lip trembling and a look of torment crossing his face up until Rose gave his hand an encouraging squeeze, "— and I_ hated _her, Rose. I hated her so much, for _ages. _'Cos it meant that I'd never get to see you again and-and I missed you. I _missed _you."

"Oh Doctor," Rose breathed, eyes glistening. "'M here now."

He gave her a crooked smile, trailing his thumb over her cheek again. "It's still surreal that you are." He looked adorably bashful for a moment. "Keep thinking you're going to disappear or I'm going to wake up."

"Not goin' anywhere," she promised, before her eyes turned solemn. "What'll you do when she comes back?"

"I'll tell her the truth."

"Which is…?"

"That my Rose came back," he said seriously, "and that I love her."

Her breath hitched in her throat, before she promptly hurled herself forward and crashed her mouth onto his. He responded in kind with almost as much desperate enthusiasm, tangling his fingers in her hair (still smelling of his fifth self's old shampoo, ironically) and effectively snogging her into the mattress. Rose encouraged him to climb atop her when she hooked her calf around his, and he was more than happy to oblige, wriggling his way above her and humming into her mouth when it allowed him to kiss her better. She licked his bottom lip with a gentle swipe of her tongue, proceeding to slip it into his mouth when he opened up obediently and running it over the roof of his mouth; the gesture made him let out a desperate-sounding pant against her lips, causing her to reply with an equally desperate moan and a gentle scrape of her nails across his scalp through his no longer gravity-defying hair.

He was then reminded with a jolt that he looked a lot different from when he'd last saw her, and he pulled his mouth away with a nervous blush, rolling off of her, fidgeting slightly and pretending not to be pleased by her dazed expression. "I-I regenerated," he said lamely.

She blinked at him, looking confused. "I noticed that."

"Er, am I— is-is that—?"

"Are you askin' me if I like the new you?" Rose asked with a hint of incredulity. When his blush deepened, she smirked at him and closed the distance between them again, slipping her hand between them to palm his crotch through his too-short trousers. His eyes practically rolled back into his head and he let out a pleased whimper that had Rose shuddering, but she pushed it aside and leaned closer, idly trailing her lips over his neck and murmuring in a sultry tone, "Does it seem like I don't like it?" He whimpered again, head dropping onto the pillow, giving Rose more access to his throat and prompting her to give his pulse point a brief nip. "'Cos I do, Doctor. An' you know what else?"

"Hnh?" came of out his mouth.

"I like your bowtie too."

She emphasised herself by giving his jaw one last nip before snogging him again, gracefully flipping herself on top of him and grinding her pelvis against his in continuous swift movements that soon had him melting into pudding underneath her. He met her movements with thrusts of his own, panting into her mouth every time she made the zipper of his trousers press right into his full-fledged erection. His fingers were clasped tightly around her waist but were secretly itching to find their way underneath her shirt (or somewhere else) but he was still apprehensive about the boundaries they hadn't yet had time to set.

Pulling his mouth away and working up the nerve to still her hips, he looked at her as seriously as he could with mussed hair and swollen lips and said carefully, "Rose, are-are you certain that you want to—? Y-you've only been back a day and you should—"

"Doctor," she interrupted, giving him a stern look punctuated by her slight smirk. "I'm certain." Her face suddenly blanched. "A-are you?"

His face flushed crimson for what had to be the hundredth time that day when his mind jumped to the erection she'd prompted and a voice in the back of his head snorted and remarked that he was more than just _certain. _He was nowhere near comfortable voicing that, so instead he simply showed her by flipping her underneath him again, with a lot less grace than she'd managed, and gluing their lips together again. She hummed with delight into his mouth, hooking her leg around his calf a second time and fingering the back of his bowtie to undo it, encouraging him to let his hands wander and feel the way they wanted to. One hand slid into her hair gently while the other trailed lower, fingertips probing the hem of her shirt and discreetly tracing patterns on the soft skin of her stomach.

Rose's thumbs hooked under his lapels and pushed the jacket off of his shoulders, shoving it off of the bed and out of the way with her foot. To his confusion she pulled her mouth away and started to giggle; his uncertainty lessened at once when she tugged at his braces with her thumbs.

"Suspenders are cool," he defended at once, before she could remark.

"I think they're cute," she grinned, tongue at the corner of her mouth. "Bet they'd look better on the floor though."

"Well, Rose Tyler," the Doctor replied with false consideration and a brilliant smile, "I think you're absolutely right."

"Reckon your pants ought to join 'em," she said bluntly, making him chuckle and lean down to kiss her again.

True to her promise Rose's fingers made a beeline for his braces again, shoving them off of his shoulders and attacking the buttons on his Oxford. He happily took it upon himself to make her clothes part company with her as well, forcing her to pause her assault on his buttons when he peeled her vest top over her head with care. His jaw dropped into his lap when his eyes met soft, inviting and perfectly _bare _breasts, which flushed a lovely pink under his scrutiny.

"Built-in bra," she shrugged, biting her lip. "Torchwood issue."

He didn't reply, afraid that if he opened his mouth some kind of very unattractive noise would come out, so instead he ducked his head and wrapped his lips around one nipple, curling his hand over the other breast so it wasn't neglected. She let out a pleased hum, arching her breast into his mouth while her fingers continued their earlier goal of pushing his shirt off of his shoulders until they were both topless. Rose proceeded to kick off her leggings, kicking at them with her feet so she wouldn't dislodge his mouth from her breast before fumbling with the zip on his trousers. He released her nipple and let out a hiss when her knuckles brushed against his erection, which was then followed by a silly-sounding squeak when she gave his bum a quick squeeze from inside his unfastened trousers.

He was still slightly apprehensive about being naked in Rose's presence — even though, hypocritically, he was internally preening at the fact that she was underneath him wearing nothing but knickers — but Rose took one look at the tent in his pants and took it upon herself to shove them down around his thighs and grasp his cock in her hand. He let out yet another unappealing noise that sounded something like '_unh'_ when she started pumping with purpose, twisting her wrist every so often in a way that nearly made him embarrass himself.

"Waitaminute," he gasped, stilling her hand with one of his own. "This body. First time. Sensitive."

"Later then," she hummed, releasing his cock to instead begin shimmying out of her knickers.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him down so that the head of his length brushed against her heat. He choked down yet another humiliating noise and said confusedly, "Don't you need me to—?" but she silenced him by grasping his bum with both hands, using them and her legs to push him down so that he sank into her slick channel to the hilt without any resistance.

It'd been decades for her (and, truthfully, centuries for him) so they both had to take a moment, him trying not to pop off prematurely and her adjusting to his size. Eventually she was ready, and with a gentle nudge with the tip of her nose against his ear she whispered his real name into his ear. A shiver rippled down his back, and he breathed her name in return before burying his face in her neck and starting to thrust.

She hitched her leg around his thigh for a better angle, pressing her nose to his temple and cradling the back of his head. He pulled back and filled her up again, stretching her walls and letting out ragged breaths with every thrust. It was sweet, slow and loving, fitting for their reunion after being apart for so long, but Rose soon grew frantic for something faster and encouraged him to quicken his pace by repeating his true name over and over like a mantra in his ear. He moaned with each recurrence, obediently quickening his strokes until he was pounding into her.

"Rose," he breathed, pulling his face from her neck and looking down at her through half-closed, desperate eyes. "I need… can I…?"

She didn't understand what he was asking of her, up until he lifted one hand and let two fingers hover over her temple. Thinking back to the embarrassingly amazing feeling she'd experienced in the infirmary, she gasped out a whiny, "_Yes_."

He spilled into her mind with a ragged sob, sweeping through every crevice of it until he blanketed her essence like a warm, thrumming embrace. She was faintly aware that her mouth was open— she wasn't entirely certain if she was moaning or not, but it seemed plausible enough. In a brief moment of clarity she wondered if she could return the favour, and on a complete fluke she succeeded in following the thread-thin link between them and spilled herself as best she could into his cavernous mind.

To her astonishment, she _felt _his pleasure, felt what it was like to move slickly back and forth through her own heat and how much it meant to have her of all peoplebe the one to _finally _fill the void in his head. Rose experimentally gave his mind a gentle caress, feeling a flare of indescribable happiness mixed with pain in response. Her orgasm was entirely unexpected— one moment she was basking in the glow of mental connection, and the next she was tumbling from the precipice, limbs seizing and supernovas exploding in front of her eyes, and the distinct feeling of icy semen hitting her insides as the Doctor found his own explosive release. He was torn from her mind abruptly, and vice versa, making her gasp out in alarm and fall back against the pillow, blinking the haze from her vision.

"I think I just blew up," she panted, and the heap of equally breathless Time Lord that was draped on top of her started giggling into her chest. She scowled at the top of his head, swatting his arm. "S'not funny!"

"Oh Rose," he laughed, rolling off of her and snuggling into her side almost immediately. "You didn't blow up."

"Bloody well felt like it," Rose replied, feeling pleasantly boneless. "Is-is that what it's like for Time Lords all the time?"

"Not always. Only when we become telepathically linked." He let out a silly sounding, pleased hum, gathering her as close as possible. "Which, by the way, you shouldn't have been able to do."

"I usually do things I shouldn't be able to do," she said happily, tossing a leg over his and manoeuvring the bunched-up comforter from underneath their bums so that it draped over their bodies. She let out a loud yawn, startling her. "Blimey, 'm knackered."

He pressed his nose into her hairline. "Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

She shut her eyes obediently, snuggling comfortably into the sheets and sighing out, "Promise?"

"Promise."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And so concludes this series, after almost eleven months :( Please forgive me if I concluded it on a horribly boring story; this fic took me FOREVER to write and I definitely feel it's not my best. Anyhoo, super big thank you to everybody who's been with me since the beginning- super SUPER big thank you to natural-blues, who's been my beta since chapter 2 of Ageless, Timeless :) And fret not, I have lots and lots of series planned for the future! In the meantime, though, expect updates to Partition, and two prompts I seriously should have gotten done a long time ago (I haven't forgotten you! D:) Vampi out!  
><strong>


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